Snapshots (2/?): Pranks and Penance
Here's the second in the series, hope you enjoy it :)
Title: Snapshots: Pranks and Penance
Characters: James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Lily Evans.
Date: 1975
Word Count: 1774
“He’s late.”
“It’s fine.”
“Every time he’s late, you always say ‘it’s fine’!”
“And every time, you panic like a desperate housewife. Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m sure he’s just working late.”
“Oh…fuck you, Prongs.”
“Careful. Wouldn’t want Wormtail to get jealous now…” James grinned as his best friend delivered a sharp, chastising slap to the back of his head, immediately turning to sock him in the arm before a voice cut through their impending playfight.
“Honestly, can’t you two keep it to the bedroom?” The pair turned mid-grapple to the source of the interruption, breaking apart as they shot each other one, final punch to the bicep. “And here I thought that we had something special, Padfoot.”
Sirius grimaced, brushing a few of his normally impeccably kept (to the point of obsession) obsidian locks out of his eyes.
“I’m gonna put my foot somewhere very special in a moment, if I hear any more unkind remarks about my sexuality, boys.” He muttered, crossing his arms resentfully over his chest as he straightened his posture.
“Oh-hoh!” Peter grinned, glancing at James with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Look who’s getting defensive!” The latter smirked, before slapping his friend’s outstretched hand amicably.
“Shut up, Wormtail.” He said, winking at him as Peter shook Sirius’ hand, yelping as the larger boy drew him into a headlock. James watched his friends spar for a moment before his attention began to wander, his gaze falling over his surroundings.
It was a cold, grey day, one of those where the weather seemed to hang over everything in a pallid whitewash. The hustle of dark-robed figures around Platform 9¾ surrounded them, various splashes of colour here and there denoting House affiliation. Almost nobody was in Muggle clothing. In fact, the whole crowd seemed to be a lot more subdued this year, the atmosphere being vaguely oppressive with tension. The normal shouts and laughter as friends reunited had become low murmurs and whispered words of greeting, the buzz of chatter turning into staccato exchanges, brief gestures of acknowledgement. Of course, the most obvious reason for this could be found if one were to simply open their eyes to the small details that gave such things away. The numbers were less for one, the usual sea of students preparing to board the Express for another term of learning and education severely thinned. At various points, inconspicuously conspicuous, large, blue-robed wizards surveyed the scene, their hands always close to familiar-looking bulges in their sleeves or breast pockets. The front page of the Wizarding broadsheet, The Daily Prophet, flurried past the boys, caught on the tails of a sudden gust. As James’ eyes tracked its winding and weaving path around the feet and forms of those gathered, the words on the front flashed momentarily in his vision. A brief glimpse, but it was enough to put another piece of the puzzle into place.
“Attack at Dawn!
Peculiar mark discovered again at the scene of a grisly murder!”
The moving photograph on the front, in its transitory passage over the young Wizard’s eyes showed the image of a charred, smoking house. Above the curls and wisps of the fiery haze, a glittering green skull hung in the air, a snake protruding and winding from a grinning, mocking mouth.
“Prongs!” The familiar sound of Sirius’ bark, oddly reminiscent of his animal form, drew his attention away from the blustering sheet of paper, breaking his reverie suddenly, harshly.
“Hmm?” He replied, blinking for a few moments as he glanced into the waiting, impatient expressions of his two best friends. “Sorry, was just thinking.” He trailed off as Sirius rolled his eyes, preparing to deliver another sound, solid punch and a few coarse words to the other Gryffindor before he lowered his head conspiratorially, whispering to him.
“Wormtail’s done it, it’s all set.” He said sotto voce, his eyes alight with the kind of spark that only imminent mischief seemed to inspire. James glanced at his other friend, and couldn’t help but beam proudly at the boy, all thoughts of Aurors and wicked, green skulls pushed from his mind for the time being.
“Good work!” He grinned, slapping the smaller Gryffindor heartily on the back. Peter coughed.
“Well, Remus helped…” He mumbled, his cheeks turning an embarrassed, flushed red at the praise from his friends.
“Nonsense!” Sirius laughed, his arm joining James’ around Peter’s shoulders. “None of this would have worked without you, mate. When’s it going off?” The latter boy opened his mouth to respond, but a resounding boom shook the station before any words could leave his throat. All around them, people began to scream and panic as Aurors and Prefects alike drew their wands, the latter ashen-faced as they directed the flow of stampeding witches and wizards towards the exits before everyone suddenly stopped, stunned at the spectacle that was unfolding before them. It was as if a bomb of sheer colour had exploded with the force of a Filibuster firework above the Slytherin carriage, the air a riot of gold, crimson, blue, bronze and black that sparkled, snapped, crackled and popped as the audience of Aurors, teachers, parents and students watched, mesmerised. A few stifled gasps were heard as the kaleidoscope of hue and tint began to form slowly, prettily into recognisable forms, words that shone in the air, cut through the gloom that permeated the station and its occupants.
“READY FOR THE NEW TERM?
WORRIED ABOUT YOU-KNOW-WHO?
THE MARAUDERS HAVE THE SOLUTION!”
“And the big finish…” Sirius whispered next to James and Peter, the words spoken under his breath while the other two held theirs.
With another bang that made the assembled onlookers jump in fright, the fireworks received the full brunt of the delayed transfiguration charm, set in tandem with the fuses. The lights and colours, so beautiful in their effervescence before, were instantaneously transmogrified before everyone’s eyes into roughly six cubic litres of stinksap in mid-air. As always, gravity asserted itself and the entire Slytherin carriage was coated in a wet slap, accompanied by the collective groans of anyone wearing green and silver.
“One of your more inspired ideas; Prongs.” Peter grinned at James, who simply chuckled back and slung an arm companionably over his shoulder as they walked off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I take it that I have you to thank for that?”
James looked up as the door to the compartment that he, Peter and Sirius were sharing opened abruptly. Automatically, his face split into a wide grin as his eyes focus on the source of the disturbance.
“Evans!” He smiled enthusiastically by way of greeting. “Did you miss me so much that you had to come and say hello straight away?” Beside him, Peter snickered, while Sirius rolled his eyes and sighed in a long-suffering manner.
“Hardly.” She replied in a flat, crisp tone. “Was it you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” James replied, feigning innocence.
“How many other groups of people do I know who call themselves…Marauders…?” She snapped, her lip rising with distaste at the last word. This time, it was Sirius’ turn to snicker, another significant glance being exchanged shortly afterwards.
“10?” Peter asked, his fingers on his chin as if he were contemplating something vastly complicated.
“3?” Sirius echoed his friend’s tone, barely controlling his laughter. Taunting Evans had become one of his favourite sports for the past few years, despite his best friend’s infatuation with the tall, irritable redhead, a fact that annoyed James to no end.
“Try again!” She snapped, the colour beginning to rise in her cheeks. “I’ve just had to spend the last ten minutes scourgify-ing the Slytherin carriage, because three little boys can’t grow up and behave themselves!” They were quiet for a few moments then. The other two were feigning penitent looks of course, but James’ fingers had subconsciously moved to brush the cool, smooth metal of the badge that was currently sitting in his trouser pocket, his skin sliding softly over the surface. Was this really why Dumbledore had given him the badge? Could he really continue like this, for the rest of the year? His thoughts were interrupted again as Peter raised his hand as if he were asking a questions in class.
“Yes, Pettigrew?” Lily responded, sounding very much like McGonagall on a bad day.
“There’re four Marauders.” He countered perfectly reasonably, at which the other two male occupants of the compartment promptly burst into laughter. Lily’s expression darkened to an almost frightening extent then, the flush of her cheeks coming full through her face.
“Remus has ten times the maturity of the three of you put together.” She hissed. “I highly doubt that he’d be involved in something so…so…”
“Brilliant?” Sirius offered, shrugging and looking at Peter.
“Artistic?” Peter grinned, glancing at James.
“Inspired.” The boy nodded, his attention firmly planted on the sanguine-haired Head Girl. Her blood pressure was, quite obviously, reaching dangerous levels. James decided that it was time to defuse the situation. He winked at Sirius, who slapped a hand over his face and groaned, falling back into his seat as Lily glanced at him quizzically before returning her glare to James. “Alright, alright.” He said, holding his hounds out in a placating manner. “Look, Evans, I can see that you’re angry…”
“Oh really?!” She practically yelled. “What small hint gave you that idea?”
“…but I’ll make it up to you.” He continued, ignoring her outburst. “Let me take you to Hogsmeade in a few weeks.” She stared at him for a few long moments, dumbfounded. James, on the other hand, simply smiled confidently (some might say stupidly). Peter groaned, echoing Sirius as he twigged what was about to happen.
“Potter…” Lily said silkily, walking slowly up to him, placing a soft, delicate hand on his cheek.
“Yes Evans?” He replied, grinning. Merlin, but didn’t her hand feel good, its warmth suffusing into his skin, making his head feel as if he’d taken three turns on one of those Muggle roller-toaster jobbies.
“Learn to climb Gryffindor Tower in ice skates, whilst singing the Hogwarts school anthem in a tiara and nothing else. Then we’ll talk.” She whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear, before she lightly patted his cheek, giving him a wink before walking off. “And leave the Slytherins alone!” She shouted, before slamming the door shut after her. The compartment was silent again for a few moment, each of the Marauders contemplating what had just happened (or, in Sirius’ case, desperately trying to control the sobs of laughter that were wracking his body), before James sat down and leant forward.
“Right, anyone know any good charms for climbing towers?”
Title: Snapshots: Pranks and Penance
Characters: James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Lily Evans.
Date: 1975
Word Count: 1774
“He’s late.”
“It’s fine.”
“Every time he’s late, you always say ‘it’s fine’!”
“And every time, you panic like a desperate housewife. Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m sure he’s just working late.”
“Oh…fuck you, Prongs.”
“Careful. Wouldn’t want Wormtail to get jealous now…” James grinned as his best friend delivered a sharp, chastising slap to the back of his head, immediately turning to sock him in the arm before a voice cut through their impending playfight.
“Honestly, can’t you two keep it to the bedroom?” The pair turned mid-grapple to the source of the interruption, breaking apart as they shot each other one, final punch to the bicep. “And here I thought that we had something special, Padfoot.”
Sirius grimaced, brushing a few of his normally impeccably kept (to the point of obsession) obsidian locks out of his eyes.
“I’m gonna put my foot somewhere very special in a moment, if I hear any more unkind remarks about my sexuality, boys.” He muttered, crossing his arms resentfully over his chest as he straightened his posture.
“Oh-hoh!” Peter grinned, glancing at James with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Look who’s getting defensive!” The latter smirked, before slapping his friend’s outstretched hand amicably.
“Shut up, Wormtail.” He said, winking at him as Peter shook Sirius’ hand, yelping as the larger boy drew him into a headlock. James watched his friends spar for a moment before his attention began to wander, his gaze falling over his surroundings.
It was a cold, grey day, one of those where the weather seemed to hang over everything in a pallid whitewash. The hustle of dark-robed figures around Platform 9¾ surrounded them, various splashes of colour here and there denoting House affiliation. Almost nobody was in Muggle clothing. In fact, the whole crowd seemed to be a lot more subdued this year, the atmosphere being vaguely oppressive with tension. The normal shouts and laughter as friends reunited had become low murmurs and whispered words of greeting, the buzz of chatter turning into staccato exchanges, brief gestures of acknowledgement. Of course, the most obvious reason for this could be found if one were to simply open their eyes to the small details that gave such things away. The numbers were less for one, the usual sea of students preparing to board the Express for another term of learning and education severely thinned. At various points, inconspicuously conspicuous, large, blue-robed wizards surveyed the scene, their hands always close to familiar-looking bulges in their sleeves or breast pockets. The front page of the Wizarding broadsheet, The Daily Prophet, flurried past the boys, caught on the tails of a sudden gust. As James’ eyes tracked its winding and weaving path around the feet and forms of those gathered, the words on the front flashed momentarily in his vision. A brief glimpse, but it was enough to put another piece of the puzzle into place.
“Attack at Dawn!
Peculiar mark discovered again at the scene of a grisly murder!”
The moving photograph on the front, in its transitory passage over the young Wizard’s eyes showed the image of a charred, smoking house. Above the curls and wisps of the fiery haze, a glittering green skull hung in the air, a snake protruding and winding from a grinning, mocking mouth.
“Prongs!” The familiar sound of Sirius’ bark, oddly reminiscent of his animal form, drew his attention away from the blustering sheet of paper, breaking his reverie suddenly, harshly.
“Hmm?” He replied, blinking for a few moments as he glanced into the waiting, impatient expressions of his two best friends. “Sorry, was just thinking.” He trailed off as Sirius rolled his eyes, preparing to deliver another sound, solid punch and a few coarse words to the other Gryffindor before he lowered his head conspiratorially, whispering to him.
“Wormtail’s done it, it’s all set.” He said sotto voce, his eyes alight with the kind of spark that only imminent mischief seemed to inspire. James glanced at his other friend, and couldn’t help but beam proudly at the boy, all thoughts of Aurors and wicked, green skulls pushed from his mind for the time being.
“Good work!” He grinned, slapping the smaller Gryffindor heartily on the back. Peter coughed.
“Well, Remus helped…” He mumbled, his cheeks turning an embarrassed, flushed red at the praise from his friends.
“Nonsense!” Sirius laughed, his arm joining James’ around Peter’s shoulders. “None of this would have worked without you, mate. When’s it going off?” The latter boy opened his mouth to respond, but a resounding boom shook the station before any words could leave his throat. All around them, people began to scream and panic as Aurors and Prefects alike drew their wands, the latter ashen-faced as they directed the flow of stampeding witches and wizards towards the exits before everyone suddenly stopped, stunned at the spectacle that was unfolding before them. It was as if a bomb of sheer colour had exploded with the force of a Filibuster firework above the Slytherin carriage, the air a riot of gold, crimson, blue, bronze and black that sparkled, snapped, crackled and popped as the audience of Aurors, teachers, parents and students watched, mesmerised. A few stifled gasps were heard as the kaleidoscope of hue and tint began to form slowly, prettily into recognisable forms, words that shone in the air, cut through the gloom that permeated the station and its occupants.
“READY FOR THE NEW TERM?
WORRIED ABOUT YOU-KNOW-WHO?
THE MARAUDERS HAVE THE SOLUTION!”
“And the big finish…” Sirius whispered next to James and Peter, the words spoken under his breath while the other two held theirs.
With another bang that made the assembled onlookers jump in fright, the fireworks received the full brunt of the delayed transfiguration charm, set in tandem with the fuses. The lights and colours, so beautiful in their effervescence before, were instantaneously transmogrified before everyone’s eyes into roughly six cubic litres of stinksap in mid-air. As always, gravity asserted itself and the entire Slytherin carriage was coated in a wet slap, accompanied by the collective groans of anyone wearing green and silver.
“One of your more inspired ideas; Prongs.” Peter grinned at James, who simply chuckled back and slung an arm companionably over his shoulder as they walked off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I take it that I have you to thank for that?”
James looked up as the door to the compartment that he, Peter and Sirius were sharing opened abruptly. Automatically, his face split into a wide grin as his eyes focus on the source of the disturbance.
“Evans!” He smiled enthusiastically by way of greeting. “Did you miss me so much that you had to come and say hello straight away?” Beside him, Peter snickered, while Sirius rolled his eyes and sighed in a long-suffering manner.
“Hardly.” She replied in a flat, crisp tone. “Was it you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” James replied, feigning innocence.
“How many other groups of people do I know who call themselves…Marauders…?” She snapped, her lip rising with distaste at the last word. This time, it was Sirius’ turn to snicker, another significant glance being exchanged shortly afterwards.
“10?” Peter asked, his fingers on his chin as if he were contemplating something vastly complicated.
“3?” Sirius echoed his friend’s tone, barely controlling his laughter. Taunting Evans had become one of his favourite sports for the past few years, despite his best friend’s infatuation with the tall, irritable redhead, a fact that annoyed James to no end.
“Try again!” She snapped, the colour beginning to rise in her cheeks. “I’ve just had to spend the last ten minutes scourgify-ing the Slytherin carriage, because three little boys can’t grow up and behave themselves!” They were quiet for a few moments then. The other two were feigning penitent looks of course, but James’ fingers had subconsciously moved to brush the cool, smooth metal of the badge that was currently sitting in his trouser pocket, his skin sliding softly over the surface. Was this really why Dumbledore had given him the badge? Could he really continue like this, for the rest of the year? His thoughts were interrupted again as Peter raised his hand as if he were asking a questions in class.
“Yes, Pettigrew?” Lily responded, sounding very much like McGonagall on a bad day.
“There’re four Marauders.” He countered perfectly reasonably, at which the other two male occupants of the compartment promptly burst into laughter. Lily’s expression darkened to an almost frightening extent then, the flush of her cheeks coming full through her face.
“Remus has ten times the maturity of the three of you put together.” She hissed. “I highly doubt that he’d be involved in something so…so…”
“Brilliant?” Sirius offered, shrugging and looking at Peter.
“Artistic?” Peter grinned, glancing at James.
“Inspired.” The boy nodded, his attention firmly planted on the sanguine-haired Head Girl. Her blood pressure was, quite obviously, reaching dangerous levels. James decided that it was time to defuse the situation. He winked at Sirius, who slapped a hand over his face and groaned, falling back into his seat as Lily glanced at him quizzically before returning her glare to James. “Alright, alright.” He said, holding his hounds out in a placating manner. “Look, Evans, I can see that you’re angry…”
“Oh really?!” She practically yelled. “What small hint gave you that idea?”
“…but I’ll make it up to you.” He continued, ignoring her outburst. “Let me take you to Hogsmeade in a few weeks.” She stared at him for a few long moments, dumbfounded. James, on the other hand, simply smiled confidently (some might say stupidly). Peter groaned, echoing Sirius as he twigged what was about to happen.
“Potter…” Lily said silkily, walking slowly up to him, placing a soft, delicate hand on his cheek.
“Yes Evans?” He replied, grinning. Merlin, but didn’t her hand feel good, its warmth suffusing into his skin, making his head feel as if he’d taken three turns on one of those Muggle roller-toaster jobbies.
“Learn to climb Gryffindor Tower in ice skates, whilst singing the Hogwarts school anthem in a tiara and nothing else. Then we’ll talk.” She whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear, before she lightly patted his cheek, giving him a wink before walking off. “And leave the Slytherins alone!” She shouted, before slamming the door shut after her. The compartment was silent again for a few moment, each of the Marauders contemplating what had just happened (or, in Sirius’ case, desperately trying to control the sobs of laughter that were wracking his body), before James sat down and leant forward.
“Right, anyone know any good charms for climbing towers?”